A Living Rose
by Mariel Gullwhacker
Summary: (Permanent Hiatus) Alternate Reality. I'm sure you wanted something similar at the end of Martin the Warrior...
1. Marshank Survival

**__**

A Living Rose, Part 01, Marshank Survival

Rose was flung aside like a doll, but Martin dived forward, catching her in his strong paws. Rose slid down limply.

Martin had no time to see if she was alive or dead. He raced along the narrow parapet where he began his deadly duel.

Badrang lay dead at his feet. Kicking the corpse disdainfully, Martin strode back towards Rose. The last thing Martin heard before sleep closed over his was Rose's voice.

"Martin? Thank goodness you're not at the Dark Forest gates!"

Rose sat alone in the darkness for a long time. Then sleep claimed her as it had Martin.

Brome smiled, watching his sister tense for a moment before snuggling closer to Martin. Her head rested on his shoulder. They both looked completely at peace.

He was running.

Running fast.

His tail streamed out behind him.

__

Get to Noonvale, said a little voice. _Noonvale has the key._

The key to his past life.

__

Who is he?

Martin woke at dawn. Rose was stirring a little, he noticed.

"Ahoy there, warrior!"

Martin glanced down. Brome was grinning up at him.

"Have a nice kip?"

"Yes, thanks. So we won?"

"No, we were massacred. Of course we won!"

"How many of ours died?"

"About a quarter … Trefoil died. You know, from the Rambling Rosehip Players?"

"She's the only one of them lost?"

"Fought like a mad thing. But a third of the Gawtrybe died, and they don't even care!"

Martin shrugged.

"It's just their nature. What about the other creatures?"  
"Some Highbeast -- they've already mourned, don't worry. I'm not sure about the others. But Marshank has been wiped out, thanks to you."

"Not just thanks to me. Thanks to everybeast."

"Well, you killed Badrang."

"So?"

"So he _was_ the leader!"

"Ah. Good point."

Rose yawned behind him and he turned quickly.

"You all right?"

"Fine, thanks. You?"

"I'm OK. Coming to see after the others?"

"Yes."

Rose got up, stretched, and then followed Martin down to the casualties.

Brome looked up at them.

"Martin, Rose, Keyla wants to talk to you. He's in the prison pit."

They disappeared into the slave hole and Brome looked thoughtfully after them, then turned back to Ballaw.

"Are we in trouble?" asked Rose immediately.

"Of course not. You can do anything you want for the next season. That's how long it'll take to wear off."

"What?"

"Victory exultation. You two are revered for killing Badrang, you know. Well, Martin for killing him, Rose for attempting to."

"That's OK."

"Of course. We're travelling to Polleekin's cottage tomorrow, all right?"

"Yes, Keyla."

"I've got to take care of someone, Keyla."

"Who?"

"Clogg. On the other hand, we can't leave all these bodies lying around. They'll scare travellers."

"Trust you, Martin!" Rose laughed.

"I suppose they will," said Keyla thoughtfully. "Especially when they turn to skeletons. If Clogg's as crazy as that, will he kill himself if you tell him to?"

"He might," Martin said doubtfully.

"You might as well run him through, anyway," Rose said surprisingly.

"Maybe, but I don't like killing when there's no defence. It's too much like Badrang -- vermin in general."

"And Clogg can't really defend himself. Oh, well."

__

Rose's POV

We went out into the bright sunshine. We walked a little way, closer to the sea.

I began to sing a Noonvale song.

__

"See the river running

Over hill and dale

The cool green willows

There without fail

Oh, the beloved heart of Noonvale

Songs of golden sunlight

Fly across the dawn

And are there again at night

Larks are there at moonset

Nightingales at sunset

Old love is always met

In Noonvale."

As I finished the song, I turned to Martin.

"I love you," we said at the same moment, and laughed.

A/N: This is Alternate Reality, OK? I don't want stupid reviews saying: _But this can't happen - it'll totally unsettle Redwall!_

I appreciate your point. I'm no fan of Alternate Reality myself, mainly because the first A/R fic I read totally trashed the main principles, making all the heroes villains and vice versa.

I'm sure that at the end of _Martin the Warrior_ you wanted Rose to live, or something. I cried -- I'm not ashamed to admit that.

This fic is basically about what might have happened had Rose and Felldoh survived Marshank. It'll resolve itself into _Mossflower_ eventually, don't worry. Of course, this will just be _Martin the Warrior, Mossflower, _and _The Legend of Luke._ I don't know about _Outcast of Redwall_, not having read it. Perhaps someone else might like to carry on this fic if it has Martin (alive) in it.

I'm ignoring the fact that they buried Felldoh -- it never happened, OK?

Please R/R?

Mariel Gullwhacker.


	2. Back To Noonvale

**__**

A Living Rose, Part 02, Back to Noonvale

Martin bowed his head, kissing Rose. Brome covered his mouth with his paws to stop himself laughing. Tears were running down his mother's face unchecked, and his father was smiling fit to burst.

Rose laughed at Ballaw's antics. The hare had accidentally tripped, landing in the salad bowl.

"What a waste of good salad!" shouted Brome teasingly.

"No waste, old lad, just a touch of pepper here and there and it'll be right as rain, doncha know? Waste not, want not, that's what I always say, wot, wot?"

"Yes, sir."

"No need for that, old chap. Sir's all right for the jolly old fighting hares, but not for a bally professional _acting_ hare like me. Sir Ballaw De Quincewold suits me, though, doncha think?"

__

Noonvale.

Must get to Noonvale.

Noonvale is the key.

Who am I?

The sounds of laughter reached the squirrel's sharp ears. He made his way towards it.

"Felldoh!"

The squirrel looked up.

"Felldooooh!"

It was a healer mouse. The squirrel looked slightly puzzled.

"Me?"

"Yes, you, you idiot."

The squirrel raced towards the healer mouse. He stood before him like an anxious child.

"I don't know who I am. Is this Noonvale? Something told me that Noonvale was the key to my past life, or something like that."

The healer mouse looked at him.

"You seriously can't remember who you are?"

"Yes."

"All right."

The mouse pulled some herbs from his pack. Crushing them together, he fed them to the squirrel, who pulled a face as he swallowed them quickly, wincing at the sour taste.

"Ever tried any of these herbs yourself?"

"No, mate. Wouldn't dream of it. Much more fun to feed them to my friends."

The squirrel's eyes went vacant. Dreamily he spoke.

"I am Felldoh -- Badrang! Must kill Badrang. Beat him to death, giving him the same beatings I had when I was far, far younger.

"Brome doesn't like killing. He can't understand how I do it so matter-of-factly. I used to be like him. Sometimes I wish I still was. Or at least like Martin, who can, but won't, unless it's in a battle. Then we kill everything in sight -- well, we can usually keep our allies in perspective.

"I will kill Badrang -- if he's not dead already from my beatings. Perhaps I should use the other end of the javelin to finish him off.

"He is calling for Marshank to help him. I kill whoever I can, but Badrang has disappeared, the coward. Everything goes black.

"I wake on the edge of a steep cliff. Involuntarily, I shiver, thinking of what could have happened. But everything before that is blackness, just blackness. Only Noonvale stands out like a beacon, shining in the darkness.

"I bandage my wounds, knowing the skills, but not knowing where I learnt them. I make my way to Noonvale, helped by other creatures, who give me food, and sometimes a bed. Directions are more important, I think. But Noonvale … Noonvale … I will get there someday. Someday soon."

Brome nodded as he finished his story.

"Felldoh, welcome back. To Noonvale."

Felldoh jumped up. "What's all the feasting about?"

"Oh, that … you won't believe it. Then again, it was you who guessed first, perhaps. You know, 'aye, and you're Martin. I'm Felldoh, that'n over there is Brome, and the beast whose head you're standing on is Grumm.' Or words to that effect."

"Come again?"

"Wedding celebrations!"

"Martin?"

"Yes!"

Brome rolled about in the grass, unleashing the mirth that he had kept bottled up for more than an hour.

"Martin and -- "

"Think, Felldoh. Think back. We were separated on the journey here, remember? Me and you were together, and Grumm, Martin, and Rose were together."

"No … "

"Yep!"

Felldoh burst out laughing. The laughter carried up the hill to where Martin, Rose and Barkjon were.

"Somebeast's laughing like a maniac," observed Martin.

"Sounds like me," responded Barkjon. "But it's probably Brome."

Rose raised her eyebrows. 

"Thank you."

"It doesn't sound like you, Rose," intervened Martin quickly. "It sounds like a mixture of Brome and Barkjon -- or Felldoh."

"We always did sound rather similar," admitted Barkjon.

"Let's go and see, shall we?" said Rose, getting up. Martin followed her, glancing around.

Barkjon sprang after them, and caught up easily.

"Still life in the old squirrel yet," he remarked.

"You're not that old, Dad," replied a voice from above them. They looked up and Felldoh grinned down at them.

"Hello, Dad. Hello, Martin. Hello, Rose. I hear that you two are the cause of the feasting going on up there. May I join them?"

"You always did think of your stomach before anything else," mused Martin.

"Not true. But I haven't eaten in two days. Please?"

"Who's stopping you? Oh, and Brome, where did your foxglove petals go? We found your pack of herbs, and they were missing."

Felldoh stared at Brome.

"What did you just feed me?"

"I found him a couple of minutes ago. He couldn't remember anything about us, Marshank, Badrang … the whole palaver was gone. All he had left was _get to Noonvale. Noonvale is the key_," explained Brome quietly.

"I thought it wasn't in character for Felldoh to miss a chance of wiping out Marshank," retorted Martin.

"Ah. That _is _true. But Brome just told you why. So you managed to kill Badrang?"

"Yes. Rose tried as well."

"But he threw me aside like I was a rag doll," said Rose disgustedly.

"And you have since got married?" said Felldoh slyly.

"Felldoh, I think you have got young Brome into a spot of bother," observed Barkjon. "So I think you had better disappear for a short while. Perhaps you may like to go up to the feast?"

Felldoh had vanished in the blink of an eye.

He reappeared next to Celandine. She smiled and passed him the bread, then did a complete double take.

"Felldoh?"

"Hello, Celandine."

"You're dead!"

"Yes, yes, of course I am. The bread's awfully good, can I have some more, please?"

"Is this a joke?"

"I think it is. Hahaha, it looks like it."

Celandine stared at him.

"Er -- Rowanoak?" she asked timidly.

"Yes?"

"Am I dreaming, or is Felldoh supposed to be dead?"

"There's no proof that he died," Rowanoak explained without looking at her. "He probably did -- after all, at those odds! We never found a body. I hope he survived, of course, but if he died, I hope those vermin didn't get his body. I'd hate to see what they would have done to it if they did."

"Then this must be a dream, then," said Celandine in a small voice. "Because he's sitting right next to me."

A/N: Cliffhanger! Oh, all right then.

It was the Autumn of the Nutbrown Leaves. Martin was growing restless.

"It seems strange," he answered to Rose's sympathetic questions. "But I'll be all right."

Rose felt the same. She wanted to go questing again. Finally she spoke to her father.

"I think we're all restless," she explained. "Martin and I want to go questing, Felldoh is hardly ever in the same place for a minute, Brome is moaning that he needs practice or he'll forget everything, and even Celandine says that she feels the need to jump around the place."

"I see your point," said Urran Voh. "Yes, you should _all _go questing, I suppose. Together, though."  
"I wouldn't go otherwise," replied Rose. "I'll tell the others, then we'll go tomorrow at first light."


	3. Mossflower

**__**

A Living Rose, Part 03, Mossflower

A branch whipped back in Martin's face.

"Ow!"

"Sorry."

"And so you should be," he muttered. "Here, Rose, sing us a little ditty, will you?"

Rose obliged, lifting up her voice, not knowing the Kotir soldiers were abroad.

"_A winter's day froze all the fears_

Of the wildcat killer, the ruthless killer

And I sing as I blink back the tears

'Why did he come to us?'

Thousands died that day

From starvation or soldiers in battle

And I sing, I sing as I may

'Why did he come to us?'

So I am alone as I sing my song

Of the murders known at Noonvale

And as I sing of my travels, I travelled long

'Why did he come to us?' "

Lady Amber cursed under her breath. 

"Doesn't she _know_?"

Skipper unsheathed his blade. "Not if she's a newcomer to Mossflower, matey. And she'll be a deadbeast if we don't get down there fast!"

Martin was scouting ahead. He gave a yell as the Kotir soldiers set upon him from behind.

Rose gripped her sling. "That was Martin. I'd stake Marshank on it!"

Felldoh chuckled humourlessly. "Save your bets, Rose. Fur and Freedom - couldn't be nobeast but our warrior, could it?"

Amber looked down on the screaming melee. "Goodness, there's about five warriors there! But they'll die if they're captured, Kotir has many reinforcements. We must help them - "

She blew a short blast on her whistle. Immediately, ten squirrels dropped down from the treetops. Skipper followed her example, this time blowing two long blasts. A score of otters emerged from the forest.

Celandine was carried off, struggling frantically at her bonds. Amber's squirrels jumped down to help her, and the otters hurled stones at the soldiers. But another eightscore soldiers came running out, killing whomever they could. The Corim fighters were driven off, and Martin fell, wounded.

Even as Celandine was dragged through the halls of Kotir, she bit and scratched, and with a piercing scream, was knocked unconscious.

She revived in Verdauga's chamber. Tsarmina scratched a long claw along the squirrelmaid's forehead as she woke, and Celandine kicked out furiously.

"Don't worry, cat. We'll get even for that, I promise!"

"_We_?" asked Verdauga, expertly picking up on the little hitches in her words.

"Me and my friends. If this is the welcome to _travellers_, I'd hate to live here!"

Verdauga chuckled. "So your friends are here now? Why did they leave you?"

"One of them is badly hurt. Also, your soldiers are cowards. There were just us five against two hundred of yours, cat."

"Nonsense!" snapped Tsarmina sharply. "There were twoscore, otters and other squirrels. What of them?"

"I don't know. And if this is anything to go by, I'm not surprised they helped us without speaking."

Verdauga pulled his children to one side. "What do you think?"

Tsarmina sniffed. "Have her executed. She has disobeyed your rules, O Father, and also criticised us, and our way of life."

Her voice carried over to Celandine, who turned pale under her fur.

Gingivere did not raise his voice. "She is a brave creature. Her friends would doubtless seek revenge for her death, and besides, there are enough cowards in the world without slaying a brave one. You would save yourself some extra trouble by setting her free."

Celandine's quick ears heard his quiet words, and hoped against hope.

"Here is my verdict," said Verdauga finally. "Put her in the upper cells to cool her heels until the end of winter. Then release her. She and her friends will be grateful enough to keep quiet, and leave Mossflower."

"If they have not already left, that is," said Tsarmina cruelly. Celandine flew at her, foaming at the mouth.

"Listen, cat! My friends would never leave me! I know what I'm doing, don't worry! My warriors are much more loyal than your rabble of an army! They only have fear to keep them here, but _we_ have much more - love, friendship - things you'll never know! Let me tell you, I may be just a young squirrel, but by Hellgates I can think!"

Still fighting, Celandine was dragged down to the cells. Her eyes were pink from battle light, and several vermin were slain that hour from her - ahem - reluctance to go down to the cells.

Amber dropped down beside Felldoh, who jumped.

"Great seasons of slaughter! Who are you?"

Rose quickly smoothed things over. "Sorry. We're just - very surprised."

Amber's smile was rueful. "Aye, surprised all right. Anybeast with sense would've cleared out by now. But we want revenge, the Corim do. Since one of your number has been taken, would you like to join?"

Brome blinked. "How did you - "

"My squirrels were in that skirmish. I'm Lady Amber Squirrelqueen, by the way. Who are you?"

Rose introduced them. "But what d'you mean, the Corim?"

"The Council Of Resistance In Mossflower. Corim. Can you join?"

Rose looked at Martin. Martin looked at Felldoh, who glanced at Brome, who nodded slightly.

"All right," said Rose. "What do we do?"

"First thing," said Amber, "is to go round to the other side of Kotir, the river side."

"Why?" asked Martin, following her.

"Because that's how the prisoners are executed," said Amber.

A/N: Well? What can I say?

Celandine rocked back and forth. It wasn't too bad. There was light coming through the barred window, a straw pallet, an itchy woollen blanket, and bread and water. At least she could survive.

She started to run her paws through her tail, pulling out bits of bracken and twigs which had caught in her tail at some point during the day.

At least she could make a fire from it, she thought. One piece of bracken a day, perhaps.

She felt for a flint arrowhead she always wore round her neck. She smiled. It wasn't too bad.

Amber gave a sigh of relief. Turning to the others, she said, "She's got on Verdauga's good side, thankfully. She hasn't been executed. Well done, Gingivere."

"Gingivere?"

"There's three of them," explained Amber. "Verdauga and his two children, Tsarmina and Gingivere. Tsarmina's cruel, no doubt about it. But Gingivere's not too bad. He's quite decent - even nice. We hoped Verdauga would leave the kingdom to him, but there's no going. Tsarmina will take control, so there's no chance of Gingivere taking over."

Brome turned pale. "War? So soon? But it's only a season since Marshank!"

Lady Amber looked quizzical. "Marshank?"

"Oh, it was a slave camp. Or it was until we destroyed it," explained Martin.

"And it made Felldoh into a ruthless killer," joked Brome, ducking Felldoh's paw.

Lady Amber looked slightly surprised, but let it pass with a slight shrug.

Winter passed slowly for Celandine. Often she felt numb, too cold to feel pain, even when the guards poked her with their spears, making cruel fun of her. She sometimes cried, but now the tears were frozen in her eyes, it was too cold for them to fall. At first she had cried a lot from fear. But now she had nothing to fear, not even death. She knew she was forgotten, and though it hurt not to be remembered, she was glad, because it meant that the wildcat queen had rebellion to deal with, and she was being defeated. Once she had caught sight of Brome's distinctive healer pack, red, green and white, the colours of Noonvale, lying in the snow, so she knew her friends were working out an escape plan. She smiled at the grey stone walls. Escape would happen, and soon.

Beech took careful aim and fired. The arrow took a clean path through the dungeon cell and into the door. He grinned and threw himself into the skirmish.

"Mossflower! Eulalia! Kotir! S'death on the wind! Thousand Eyes! Tsarmina!" The battlecries of the woodlanders merged with those of Kotir. The woodlanders fought desperately, and Kotir retreated into the dark fortress. 

__

Celandine, you haven't been forgotten. This arrow point is fire-hardened, and is VERY sharp. Cut the hinges on the door, and wait till dawn, when we will mount another attack on Kotir. The way will be, left down your corridor, up the staircase, up another, which is covered in red velvet, and into Verdauga's bedchamber. Jump out of the big window, into the birch tree, we will cover for you.

CORIM.

The note was in Rose's handwriting. Celandine smiled briefly. Whatever Corim was, they were friendly, and could be trusted. And it was about time she escaped, too.


End file.
